Archipelago

This is a maddening movie, though a good one. The structure is just about perfect, and the family's dysfunction unspools in a very controlled way. The acting is universally excellent and clear. The movie makes wonderful use of the unique landscape of the Isle of Scilly, and all in all, I felt I was in the hands of first class creators.

But…

The rhythm is eternally and unchangingly slow. Every scene begins with long, long minutes of barely discernible action. There is, despite the simmering resentments, only a single explosion. This lugubrious technique is both effective and maddening. The movie seems like an experiment in just how far you can go into hazy somnambulance and still create dramatic tension.

Don't watch it when you're sleepy.

I am ashamed to say that I have actually watched this film! It is the worst film I have ever seen, filled with pointless scenes that seem to be extended for minutes more than needed. It becomes more and more painful to sit watching this film knowing that, after realising half way through the film that there will be no storyline and not one single bit of action or interesting dialogue, the finishing line is completely unpredictable - it could be several hours before the torture comes to an end. There are no words to describe this film apart from dull - what is the point of any of it? There may be some deep meanings to it, but they are not obvious and not even that good when you think about it. I could have easily made this film, taking a few shots of a rock or a window or a flower and throwing in some standard regular nobodies who can't even keep up a conversation without repeating themselves several times. The fact that I have felt the need to even write this, even though I have nearly fallen asleep from watching it, shows just how much I detest this film and what I can not believe is how interesting people make it sound on their reviews.

To sum up, if I filmed paint drying on a wall for two hours, it would probably be more enjoyable than this. - relief of the end = general consensus of the audience in the cinema.

Few films in recent years have polarised audiences and critics quite as much as Archipelago, Joanna Hogg's follow-up to her much-lauded debut Unrelated. If the critics have had near-universal raptures over its long, very long, static wide-shots and natural murk, for many audiences it's simply the Emperor's new fashion range – arse-achingly pretentious art-twaddle.

Well, I say it's great: a superbly photographed, acidly funny dissection of class snobbery and familial dysfunction en vacance, where invisible elephants stampede through the guest rooms, and every infinitesimal gesture counts.

The characterisation is spot on, from Hiddleston's painfully wet young man to his moist-eyed mother, filling the watery void of her life with watercolour lessons. Easy targets perhaps, but less fish in barrels and more akin to the lobsters their poor holiday cook prepares: seemingly inert, then writhing in silent agony as Hogg turns up the heat.

I'm not sure why this film was made. I don't see the point. I felt no empathy with, or interest in, any of the characters - because we never learnt anything about any of them during the course of this seemingly endless account of a familys' holiday to a desolate, rock strewn island.

The conversation is tedious and I couldn't imagine spending more than an hour with any one of them without wanting to hurl myself off one of the many available cliffs.

The script, if there ever was one, is clumsy and lumbering. The shots of the views are lingering and trail after the characters as they wander up a hill, or down a hill, or along a coast, or gape at a shellfish or gaze at shellfish cooking. At one point it was pointed out that shellfish cooking by a particular method fall into a coma ... I know how they felt.

Do people like this really exist ? I sincerely hope not.

A fretful Englishwoman joins her fragile adult children at a familiar vacation spot, a guesthouse on Tresco in the Scilly Isles, for a feast of locally caught lobster, locally shot pheasant and painfully awkward smalltalk. There's plenty of drama, but not much plot in the usual sense. My wife and I didn't get much out of Joanna Hogg's latest film, "Exhibition," but this one, from 2010, was weirdly involving from start to finish.

The troubles of this trio of gentlefolk (including Tom Hiddleston, the reason we decided to watch this film in the first place) may not amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world, but the way the camera lingers after a character's left the room or climbed a staircase, the dim interior light, even the birdsong and dreamlike landscapes (from glacial boulders to spiky subtropical palms) all contribute to the atmosphere of tension and expectancy.

The title "Archipelago" might refer to the Scilly Isles (of which there are over a hundred) but also, I'm guessing, to the characters in this film, who are linked by blood and memory but isolated from one another by some pretty rough currents. (There's a big framed photo, "Storm off Tierra del Fuego," hanging over the mantelpiece when they arrive at the guesthouse; it makes them uneasy and they take it down.) Fans of Alan Ayckbourn and Edward Gorey, as well as Vinterberg and Haneke, might want to take a chance on this one. Tom Hiddleston fans might stop to consider whether this wussy, neurotic, self-doubting Tom Hiddleston is the Tom Hiddleston they first fell in love with.